


Break Down

by Fanofthebastillelife



Category: Bastille (Band)
Genre: Break Up, Break down of relationship, Grief, M/M, Wild World, good grief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-16 15:03:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17551910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanofthebastillelife/pseuds/Fanofthebastillelife





	Break Down

Kyle went through the break-up the same way one would go through the five stages of grief,. Which made sense, really. Though neither Dan nor Kyle _died_ (though it certainly feels like the better part of Kyle has), their relationship had. The relationship, the same one they had worked so hard to build, the same one they had shaped with their own hands, tried their best at, and _adored,_ is now nothing but a fading memory to look back on from the future.

The first to come, as is with the stages of grief, was denial, an experience that Kyle suspects to be the darkest of his life. It wasn’t so much as a _this is not happening_ than it was a _he will have to come back, please let him come back. I need him._

He had more thrown himself onto the sofa than laid on it shortly after Dan had left and he had retrieved all the alcohol from every nook and cranny in the house, determined to drown himself until Dan’s words weren’t ringing around his ears. Never before had the world seemed so pointless to him as it did right then- he felt _numb, sick_ to his stomach that Dan was ready to call it quits and Kyle hadn’t even noticed anything leading up to it. Perhaps, he had wondered as he almost fell off of the sofa, if it was his fault after all. Was it something he said? Something he did? In his state, he can’t even recall his own name, never mind any conversations they had which might’ve hinted at a breakup. Was it time that had strained them so much that Dan felt they were breaking?

_He will come back. He has to._

The drunken mess of a man had repeated the words to himself like a mantra until he had, at long last, passed out in a blurry series of events, half on the sofa, half off, his favourite white shirt stained with various colours of beer, whiskey, vodka, and whatever that other bottle was on the top shelf of the cupboard.

The morning came, bringing blind, raging anger with it. The questions quickly turned from _what did_ I _do?_ To _why did_ you _do this?_ He felt stupid, he felt _embarrassed_ that he had let himself get into such a state, being so vulnerable as a result of a few stupid words Dan had said. _It’s not working._

It’s not working because _you’re_ not putting the effort in, Dan.

He had pulled himself off of the sofa, sticky with dribble and alcohol around noon, when his hangover (which only ever makes rare appearances anyway) was dying, pacing around his flat trying to relieve the burning anger within him. He felt like punching something because, for fucks sake, Dan, _why_ would you do this? Why would you hurt Kyle like this, knowing full well his existence is nothing without you?

It’s Dan’s fault. After all, it’s not as if he had spoken to him about it. _Kyle, I need to talk to you. Kyle, I think we need to talk about our relationship._ No, there was _nothing._ How was Kyle supposed to know how Dan was feeling if he didn’t speak about it? Maybe if he had any communication skills, they could’ve worked on it. Yeah, it’s not his fault.

Once he had almost broken his fist from punching the solid wall in the only way he could think to get rid of his anger, he realised that, actually, Dan wasn’t at fault for any of this. Unknowingly, Kyle had given him chance after chance, yet time and time again he had failed him, always being _too_ much for Dan, always going _too far,_ and being _too overwhelming_ for the quiet man. If you had given him some space, he wouldn’t have done this, Kyle. It’s _your_ fault.

Then, the anger suddenly turned to nobody else but himself. He wanted to hurt himself for being such an idiot in the first place, and not listening or taking note of Dan’s small cues, the one way Dan really knew how to tell Kyle these things. As always, Dan doesn’t like confrontation. He gives his own little cues, like how he woke up earlier just to prepare himself for the energetic bundle that was his lover, or the way he sometimes just needed some space with his own company, to tell Kyle _I need my space. I love you, but I need space._

And Dan really did love him. He really did, but it felt like Kyle would go from 0 to 100 as soon as he woke up, and sometimes it was just _too much._ He found his own ways around it, but, in the long run, it wasn’t enough. It was better for both of them to just call it quits.

_It really is all your fault, Kyle._

That afternoon, Kyle messaged Dan. _Bargaining._

_I’m sorry. I can do better for you._

_Please text me back? I really need to talk to you._

_If you give me one more chance, Dan. I can prove myself. You know I can’t do this without you. I love you._

Their relationship had lived for five vibrant, love-filled years, which, in the grand scheme of things, isn’t a long time at all, but for them, it felt like a lifetime and more. It felt like they had known each other since they were knee high to a grasshopper. Five years of living with his very best friend, his lover, the person he wanted to _marry,_ and now he won’t even message him back.

In the evening:

_I need_ _time, Ky. Give me time._ _X_

If only you had waited another day, he had told himself, throwing his phone onto the sofa, feeling smothered by guilt. If only you had tried harder, put more into it, _listened_ to him and _paid attention. If only you weren’t so caught up in yourself to notice how Dan was feeling._

By the night, he realised how _depressed_ he felt. Even if nothing had happened that day, every day with Dan was a fun day. His life would forever be nothing without Dan, just like how it was before him.

If he didn’t have Dan, who and what did he really have? He had locked himself in the bathroom- not for any other reason than because it’s the only room that isn’t smothered in pictures of them both. The only room where he felt he might actually recover from this in.

He won’t. Kyle knows he won’t recover from it. Not that he had been in a particularly dark place before he had met Dan, who turned out to be the best thing to ever happen to him, but he had no aspirations for the future, nobody to rely on, and not really anyone to call a friend. It was like Dan had taken his hand and taken him to this better world where people wanted to know him, where he had friends, went to parties, and he had people around him who cared, who wanted him there.

Now, it feels like he has nobody.

 _Acceptance._ Acceptance should’ve been last, but it never came. Even now, a month after Dan left, their communication had been minimal and Kyle had been lost ever since and couldn’t bring himself to accept it. Dan had led him to be everything he is, how can he do this without him? It felt, at times, like the other man had died.

_He hasn’t died, Kyle. He needs time. A month isn’t a long time at all. He will text you back one day._

And that’s how he lived his life- _he hasn’t text today? Maybe tomorrow. Oh, it’s the weekend, he might be busy. Maybe Monday?_

It became almost an obsession, just waiting for Dan to message him back. He would eat, sleep, drink, and live around his phone. He would hope to see Dan out and about just so he could ask for just another chance. _One more chance, Dan, please._ But he never did. It was like Dan had hidden himself away as Kyle had- was Dan hurting this much, too?

Though he will never, ever accept it, he knows Dan will not come back. He knows he will move on, leaving Kyle there, trying to continue as if nothing had happened in the first place.

He knows.


End file.
